


Sharp and Soft

by CeeceePepper



Series: Chipped Ice [1]
Category: Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Chipped ice, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeeceePepper/pseuds/CeeceePepper
Summary: Iceman has a nightmare, and has a moment with a snoozing Cutman.Just a drabble I wrote, these two need more fics.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is set in classic series? I guess you can think of it from Powered Up, but they're more children in Powered Up. Take it as you will.

It was late; he could feel his whole body shuddering under the grasp of his nightmare. Every damn night, it was the same thing flashing through his mind that burned his core and dried his throat. Seeing Dr. Wily trap him, corner him, _turn him_ into an evil pawn and pit him against his own brothers. Boil him down into nothing but his 0’s and 1’s. Then came parts he never remembered, but could only dream of. Watching his friends become pawns. Watching _Mega_ get turned into one. Watching as, with his own two hands, he ended the life nearest and dearest to him; the red on the armor was no longer paint, but the life and oil that filled others, filled _him._

 

And when Iceman woke up, startled and his cooling fans running on high, his internal structures all fritzing and trying to wind down after such an episode, he had to calm himself. Though it wasn't like he was alone; he could feel the warmth of the other behind him. For validation, association, he turned himself around just to be sure. It came as a comfort to the smaller bot to see in the dim lighting of the room, the round outline of Cutman beside him, arm curled under a pillow they shared and mouth agape just slight enough to let him make a snore-like noise. Iceman lifted his smaller hands to feel at Cutman’s opposing shoulder, let it drift down his arm to where the tan sheeting met red metal, that drifted to where Cutman’s arm had settled around to his blue-hoodied back.

 

Iceman came to the conclusion that he’d had that nightmare, but that red that he’d seen _wasn’t_ real. What _was_ real was Cutman, right beside him; Iceman watched his internal systems _inhale, exhale. Inhale… Exhale._ Watching the blades atop his head shine gently, twitch occasionally. Watching the red other in every instance of movement, feeling him beside himself just to make sure he was there and was _real_. Iceman’s own systems began to settle down and match a rhythm close to Cutman’s, and the much smaller other finally could curl up more into the other, the gentle and perfect crevice that was the place Iceman frequented. Iceman wished he could wake the other up and tell him his appreciation.

 

Instead, Iceman settled with pressing his cheek to the whirring and warm metal of Cutman’s chest, feeling the other holding him just a little tighter and a little closer. He hummed, letting his thoughts drift off to more comfortable places and feeling his internal systems going back to snooze mode.

  
He’d just have to tell him in the morning.


End file.
